Extra Extra! Top Story
by DeadlyValentine
Summary: A top reporter for a newspaper featuring famous dead people awakens a not-so-deceased sugar loving detective, and his 2nd and 3rd successors. Why are they back? And what the heck do they want? Rating may go up.
1. Deadly Alive

"I don't care!" Perfectly filed papers were shoved into my unprepared hands, "Just find out more about them! Whatever you can! I don't care if you have a date you're missing, nor do I care if you have to skip personal hygiene, this is crucial to our paper!!"

I stared at my fiery little boss or also my uncle who allowed his poor, poor 18 year old niece have a job, his round pudgy face was squished into an oblivion in the middle of his profile. He glowered at me through glittering beady blue eyes.

"Okay okay, I'll get you a story." I dipped my head in his direction, trying not to anger him anymore, I scooped up my trusty bag, slipping on my long black coat and hurrying out of the office before Uncle Clark could get his blood pressure into the danger zone.

"You better!!" He roared after me, "This is serious business, Nicole!!!" He shook his puny fist at me.

It was late, almost 10:00. I was ready just pack up and go home, home to my cozy little bed where I could sleep and sleep to my sweet heart's content. But nooo...

"God, what a crack case." I grumbled to my rear view mirror, "Can't he ever relax?" I turned the key in the ignition and drove off towards the awaiting graveyard.

I perched on the straight backed wooden bench, staring out at the vast dark graveyard before me. It was a gloomy gray night, cold and heartless. Why I was in a graveyard so late you might ask? Well, as the top reporter for the _Deadly Times_ it was my obligation to learn about all the famous dead people.

It was a dirty job, but hey, someone had to do it.

Today, I was researching the most brilliant known detective in the world, L Lawliet, -the man who took on the deadly Light Yagami/Kira case and epically failed-, and one of his successors, Mihael Keehl, whom had been killed by one of Kira's special doormats, his ass-kisser, for lack of a better term.

I rose from my spot on the damp bench underneath the dim streetlight lamp, and tilted my head to the cloudy sky. The moon was hidden beneath all the heavyweight gray overcast. Sauntering over towards the two crypts that awaited next to each other. Mihael Keehl and L Lawliet. Kneeling down in front of the double stones, I traced the intricate engravings, the dates the names, and the traditional R.I.P.

Pulling the two Xeranthemum flowers from my jacket pocket, placing the delicate kissable pink floret right over the trampled soil. Moving onto Mihael's grave, setting the flower upon his burial place. Gazing at the two tombstones, I glanced over at the cenotaph next to Mihael's. Mail Jeevas? Who?

_In loving memory of Mihael's accomplice._

Amazing. This was one for the journal, who knew about Mail?! I remained squatted but hopped over to Mail's tombstone.

Scooping my pad up from where it lay inside my bag, I began scribbling notes.

A shock of lightning followed by a bang of thunder stunned me, losing my balance and crashing to my butt in the soft black earth.

I could sense myself sinking, clawing at the ground, trying to gain footing, I slipped, and created an even bigger sink hole. Clods of dirt crumbled and fell into the deep depths of the grave. Ooh, that can't be good.

"Shit." I cursed hotly under my breath, I was going to be filthy after this little trip.

If only I could be so lucky, I felt a strong grip wrap around my ankle. I gasped, and the gravestone was illuminated by another flash of lightning. _Mail Jeevas 1990-2010._

My eyes widened in sheer horror as a gloved hand slid up my calf, latching on.

Shrieking until my throat ached, I thrashed making the dirt cave in even deeper, crumbling inside on itself, I stared in terror as I came face to face with a corpse. Dark red hair clung to an ivory skull in patches and clumps, gaping empty eye sockets seemed to burn holes into my face. The skinless jaw fell open, in a toothy skeleton grin.

The dark gray clouds above slowly pulled back like a curtain, letting the smiling Cheshire cat sliver of a moon sparkle down on the corpse, as the light seemed to kiss the bones and fresh skin began to blossom along it's arm, disappearing into it's glove. It... it... it... him... him... I started into the naked green eyes of him. Mail Jeevas himself.

This could NOT be happening.


	2. Truly Petrified

Mail Jeevas watched me curiously, light green eyes blinking in quiet interest. A perky little bow tie brought the attention to a dashing suit, coated with a little filth, the sleeves rolled up past the elbow.

"H-hey!!! _L-Let me g-g-ooo!!!!!!!!!"_ With my free leg I launched a kick to the zombie's face, with as much force as my body would allow.

Mail gave me a blank look, eyes uncaring.

"How long was I asleep?" He mumbled, staring around at the gloomy graveyard, not yet giving up on his hold on my ankle.

"Ahh, uhh." I stuttered, my voice shaking like an earthquake, trembling as much as the fine quavering in my whole body, rendering me helpless, immobile. I was unconditionally petrified.

"Dang, that was some party." He rubbed his eye wearily, as if he just woke up from some long nightmarish dream.

I couldn't help but stare, for a scary undead corpse, he was quite the little cutie.

"Where's Mello?" He asked me, eying me. "And how the hell did I end up in this hole? Are you a whore?" He looked me up and down.

I opened my mouth to speak, but a strangled little _peep_ squeaked past my lips.

Wait, my brain's wheels were beginning to church again, Mello was a nickname for Mihael. Right?

"Mihael?" I whispered, unable to speak regularly until I got used to the dead man in front of me.

Mail let go of my ankle and grabbed the collar of my long sleeved sweater, "How the fuck do you know about Mel's real name?" He hissed, eyes wide, surprise sparking up on his dead face.

"I-I'm a re-reporter." I choked, "I do research," I gestured towards my bag.

"No one knows about our real names, so how do you know??!" He shook me anxiously.

"I-You... You're-you're dead! And so is Mihael and L!" I tried to push him off me, he reeked like dirt and mildew.

Mail shoved me down on the damp ground, crawling on top and pinning me down, I was going to die, he was going to take me to his world of dead people, where the devour each others livers!!

"Wait, I'm dead?" He brought his face dangerously close to mine, noses touching, "I'm dead? Am I a vampire?" His cold breath blew straight in my face, smelling old and stale, and was that... a whiff of cigarettes?

"No! You're not a vampire, you... go back to your grave, you..." I was at a lost of words.

He nodded, a thoughtful look on his face, "I don't wanna go back. So I really am dead huh? How did I die? And where is Mello?" Mail cocked his head.

With a shaky finger, I pointed to Mihael's grave just a few feet away, "Please get off me." I whispered, my voice dry and scratchy.

He clambered over to Mihael's tombstone, resting into Indian style position, staring at his friend's memorial.

I should take this time to plan my escape, but the longer I watched Mail inspect his companion's grave, the less I wanted to pick myself up and make a dash for home. I watched in what might have been the loudest, longest silence ever as Mail buried his face into his hands, mournful. This man was no doubt in pure unadulterated anguish.

I propped myself up on my elbows to where I could get a better view of the sorrowful red head. Pulling myself onto my hands and knees I did something unexpected, even unbeknownst to me. I crawled over to Mail and patted the perished man on his shoulder. His dead gloved hand flew at me, and knocked me away. My batted-away hand, fell on the ground, sinking into the dirt.

The whole ground caved, Mail sliding down, his green eyes open in shock. I scrambled away from the deep hole making itself known in the ground. Great, another filthy pit.

Upon now realizing, this hole was creating right over Mihael's grave. And when the first hole occurred earlier in the night, Mail came crawling out.

Did this mean...

I didn't have time to speculate as Mihael Keehl's hand came shooting from the damp earth. Dirt fibers flew this way and that.

Here comes the second dead male of the night.

A long waxy hand sprun out another few feet away, from L Lawliet's grave.

Oops, make that three dead men.

If you believe me frightened before, I tell you that _now_, I was truly, utterly, honest-to-God petrified.


	3. Reporter Mode

I gawked in absolute terror as a blonde haired skull broke free of the damp earthen surface. A low moan seemed to slither through the air, it was ghastly.

"Mello??!!" Mail cried out to his chum, clawing at the muddy dirt, attempting to free his friend.

Oh HELL no. I lunged at the dead man, "No!! No stop, go back, go back _NOW!"_ I tugged hard on Mail's waist, "No, Noooo, Mail! Go back to your grave!!"

A long skeletal arm punched it's way from the dirt, here comes Mihael. I began pushing down on his skull, which was now gaining a fresh new layer of skin, I watched as skin flexed along his arm, banding together, there was a complete muscular arm. A leather gloved hand grabbed onto Mail's thigh. Mail seized the hand and hauled it up. He grunted from the effort.

Distraction, I needed to distract them, before they ravaged about my world hurting humans. Whipping up my purse, I began pounding Mihael's skull, which was now turning into a full head. But he just _kept coming!!!!!!!_

In the event of my deranged attack against Mihael I didn't notice as a certain dead detective came out from his resting place and made his way behind me.

A long livid arm wrapped around my torso, yanking me away from Mail and the new undead Mihael.

There was a quiet monotone-like voice from behind, "Please settle down, Miss."

Thrashing around, flailing my arms, striking the person behind me a surprised cry came from my captor, I spun around, staring into the dark black eyes of The L Lawliet.

My reporter mode overcame my fear, as an array of questions began racking along my brain. Every reporter's dream, to talk to The L Lawliet, and I was here, right in front of the very man.

"Mr. Lawliet! Tell me, how did you know Light Yagami was Kira!?" Paper, I needed paper, I searched the ground blindly, eyes not abandoning L Lawliet's pondering face. Crouching down, I felt my mouth hanging open in sheer awe, I didn't bother to close it, I just needed paper. I patted around for some sort of thing I could scribble on.

"Well, the very fact that we had no other suspects it was kind of obvious, I just couldn't find any sort of proof." He held his dead thumb to his pasty lips, in what looked to be like his anticipating face.

I found my notepad and began jotting notes as quick as lightning.

"And are you grateful for Near the young man who succeeded you, as he captured Kira and put him in prison?"

"Yes, I am, even though I wish I could have solved the case myself, I am proud to call him my successor.

I nodded, my tongue jutting out of my mouth, scrabbling notes.

"Miss," He approached, "Am I dead?"

And here I was not scared, fright came rushing back to me in a wave of nausea.

"Uh."

"Yeah, we're all dead."

I jumped at the sudden voice from Mail, that sounded from far back.

I had forgotten about the two amigos from behind. I felt my tremors come back in horrendous surges. My breath becoming into speedy little puffs.

Dead people. Everywhere, my head was throbbing, someone kept saying, "Go back, go back, go back." Over and over again, and it was me, I swayed a little and felt the ground swallow me up, please let this just be a dream, please, please, please.


	4. Go back

Voices hovered above me, like a helicopter over the deepest ocean. My dream was leaving. The voices faded. Goodbye little dream of mine.

I was deep in unconsciousness, I didn't want to wake up. But involuntarily my eyes fluttered, I kept them closed. I soon found myself recalling the previous dream I had.

Dead detective and his successors. There was a Mail Jeevas who was Mihael's accomplice, but I just bet he didn't exist. Not trying to sound like a complete idiot but Mail was kinda cute for a dead guy. But you didn't hear that from me. What an insane dream, wait a second, didn't I have a paper to author on L Lawliet and his heir? I bolted up in my dank bed, rubbing my eyes.

Why was my bed cold and damp? Where was my warm safe blanket that protected me so wholly?

Now cracking open my eyes, coming to a conclusion that I was definitely not in my bed, I was resting in a bleak graveyard next to L Lawliet's grave.

So I fell asleep on the job huh? I hope Uncle Clark doesn't discover this, he'll never let me hear the end of it. Probably fire me, then gossip about me during Thanksgiving.

That would be utterly amusing if there actually was a Mail Jeevas memorial. My neck felt slightly stiff, but nevertheless, I turned my head ever so slowly, to read the grave beyond Mihael's.

_Mail Jeevas 1990-2010._

Dear good Lord, Jesus H. Christ. He exists.

There was a deep hole where his grave was to be. A big deep pit, and it was empty, empty of everything except an open empty coffin.

I gulped a huge lump that arose in my throat. And like one of those horror movies, I gradually pivoted my head, to look over my shoulder.

Much to my very dismay, L Lawliet, Mihael Keehl, and Mail Jeevas stood together in a huddle, watching me with dead interest in their eyes.

With the biggest amount of effort, I was able to reign my breathing under control. Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. Adjusting myself to what was before.

Just pretend they are real people.

Standing up, locking my knees when I felt myself sway, I gained my stance and watched them, fear bubbling in my stomach, a acidic pit of fright and horror. Lifting my chin, I face them, I kept my head held high.

"Hello." I affirmed strongly, clenching my fists.

They nodded at me, "Hey?" Mihael snapped.

"Go back to your graves." I ordered, keeping my position as the most powerful one here. I brought them here, and I'll take them back to their graves.

If only I knew how.

"Uh, we're good." Mail said, he and Mihael lifted their heads. L Lawliet remained hunched over, watching me curiously.

"No, by the power invested in me, I say, no, I command you to go back to your resting place... of- o-of- … evermore." I pointed back to the graves. They exchanged glances.

L Lawliet sighed, "Yes, perhaps she is right. We should return to rest. We do not belong in the real world." He motioned for the two other men to go back to their graves.

Mihael slowly walked back to his grave, taking one last look at the moon and breathing in the air, passing it on to his dead lungs. Kneeling down, he took a handful of the muddy dirt and sprinkled the grains over his tombstone. Once he was out of filth he gently slid down into his 6-foot hole, the squeak of the coffin door shutting, and he was gone.

L shuffled over to Mihael's grave and pushed some of the dirt down in the hole, once he was satisfied that the coffin was slightly covered he walked over to his own tomb.

I watched in grave silence as the famous detective departed from the real world, where the air is fresh and the skies are blue, but for now, they were gray. Gray for the mourning of everyone who knew and loved these three men.

L Lawliet was gone, Mihael Keehl was gone, now all was left was Mail Jeevas.

He nodded to me, his rustic hair bobbed, he sluggishly trudged to his grave, staring at it.

Why I didn't want him to go was unknown to me. Maybe it was perhaps that found him quite intriguing. Who was this man? The more I watched him, the more I didn't want him to go, maybe I should leave now.

I turned away, gritting my teeth, and bent down to pick up my bag, I began to stalk off, ready to get out of here.

"Where are you going?" The lonely voice floated through the air and hit me hard. Like a small child asking where the mother was going when she dropped him off at daycare.

"Home." I didn't twist around to see his face, nor did I check to make sure he heard me.

But as I reached the metal decayed gates of the cemetery, I turned. Gazing back, I noticed Mail still standing above his grave, but in the glistening moonlight, he was facing me, staring after me.

I shook my head, and hurried out of the cemetery.

I sauntered over to my car, I shuddered when I recalled the abandoned Mail. His lonely call, sad green eyes, his drooped face.

Yanking open the door, shoving myself inside, then slamming it behind me. Buckling up my seat belt and revving the engine, I zoomed off, shaking the depressing picture from my brain.

As I drove into my neighborhood I had finally rid my head of the dead men.

I pulled into my driveway, unbuckling, then shutting the car down, it shuddered it's way to silence. Sighing, I kicked the door open and trudged in my house.

Every late night I came in I would just go straight to bed. But tonight, I had to write down what happened. Every little detail. Rushing right to my room, I opened my nightstand drawer and pulled out my journal and ballpoint pen, plopping down on my bed, I flipped open to a blank page.

Taking a deep breath, I began writing.

_Today was weird as heck. I went to the graveyard where L Lawliet rests to do some research on him and his successor Mihael Keehl. _

_ Heh, I found a Mail Jeevas, Mihael's accomplice. The tombstone was right next to Mihael's. But here's the thing. THEY ALL CAME ALIVE._

_ I know, it sounds completely illogical. But it's true, absolutely true. At first I thought it was just a dream, but they talked to me, L answered a few questions. I just don't know how to deal with it. I told them to go back, and they listened. Why am I still so scared? I have no idea, my anxiety is coming back. I should just take some sleep medicine and go sleep..._

_ -Nicole_

I slid off my bed, shutting my Journal, and placing it on my nightstand, I shuffled to the kitchen, eyes half-lidded, tired. I just needed some sedatives to keep me under. Selecting the _Nighty Night_ pills from the cupboard I twisted the cap until it popped off, slamming three tablets down my throat, not even bothering to use water. I scurried to my bedroom, stripping of my outer clothes and launching myself into bed with just my undershirt and undergarments. Racing under the cover's quicker than you can say, 'flip-diddle_'_ I snuggled in the sheets and fell asleep into a dreamless, uninterrupted, perfect sleep.


	5. Never Guess

I sighed from my spot on the hard stool inside the coffee shop aside the counter. I stared down at my dark coffee, I had a good sleep last night, even though I didn't get back till 1:00. Thanks to the helpful medication.

But, I just couldn't seem to stop pondering over the three deceased men. They were hideously scarring my poor brain. Nothing could get worse. Jinx?

The quiet ding ding of the bell that chimed when someone walked in the shop, rang. I cocked my head slightly to look at who was coming in.

Well, you'll just never guess who I saw.


	6. Dead Silent

The all too familiar detective and his 2nd and 3rd successors came strolling ever-so nonchalantly in, as if nothing was ever wrong. As if they weren't dead. I stared in gut-wrenching terror. Couldn't they even grasp the very actuality that they were dead?! Zero, zip, nadda. Done for??! Gone? Not living?

Wait, those aren't the correct questions to be thinking, what inquests I did have were, how the heck did they get back here? Didn't I put them to rest last night?? And how could they walk around in daylight?

Halt a second, they aren't vampires. What are they? I wasn't even familiar with what I was, now.

"Hey!" I whispered loudly, they were staring up at the large menu with it's plentiful items. L Lawliet held a placid finger to his mouth, it was very apparent that the raven-haired man was in deep thought. Mihael Keehl and Mail Jeevas both turned to stare at me.

I glared back anxiously at them, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Recognition flashed across the men's faces, "You're that girl from the graveyard!" Mihael said, his scar more prominent in sunlight than it was in the dank cemetery.

"Yeah, are you are supposed to be under 6-feet in the ground." I snapped, not caring if I hurt their dead feelings.

They blinked at me, "Shut up." Mihael hissed. L was now getting a steaming cup of tea, he licked his pale lips and began to drink from the mug.

I knocked the cup from his dead bloodless hands, and began to push them out of the coffee shop. Customers were now staring at us confusedly, like I was an insane woman who was kidnapping three men.

Grabbing onto L Lawliet I dragged him to my nearby black car, and shoved the befuddled detective inside the soft upholstered backseat, "Miss, this is unnecessary." He murmured, staring up at me with big onyx orbs.

"Mihael, Mail, please come with me, I'm taking you to my home." I said, gesturing wildly for the two men to follow their leader.

L made himself comfortable, and as a reporter I couldn't help but stare in sheer awe as he snuggled into the corner, pulling his knees up and perching, owl-like. The blonde and red-head followed in dead silence.

I almost ran over to the driver's side quicker than a mother at after-Christmas sale. Slamming the key into the ignition I floored it and zoomed to my house. Three deceased men in my backseat, awaiting quietly.


	7. Near or Far

I pulled my car into the small driveway that led to my Oh-So-'quaint' house. "Here we are, now, I'm going to let you guys stay in the living room while I call a special friend." I turned off the car and it shuddered to a silence and turned to look at the men resting in my backseat, I spoke to them as if they were nothing but little five year old boys who had done something super naughty and I was declaring them to time out.

"I suppose." L bit down on his thumbnail staring at me with dead black eyes.

I gulped and looked at the other two, "I'm okay with that." Mail smiled.

"Whatever." Mihael muttered, angrily shoving open the door and climbing out.

I turned to open the door, but realized it was already opened. Mail stared at me, green eyes sad and confused, "What's going on?" He pondered to me out loud. His voice held that air of misery back at the cemetery.

I sighed, but chose to ignore him, I yanked the car door shut and walked up the driveway, my heels clacking that professional _click_ I had always dreamed of hearing, but now, it was nothing but a failure of a tune, not the musical harmony I had hoped. It meant that I actually had to be professional for once. I couldn't play around, I had to get straight to work. And put these men back in their place. What a load of responsibility.

Upon opening the door, I realized something wasn't right, my usual little click that could be heard when I unlocked the door couldn't be heard, that meant my door was already unlocked. I always locked the door.

"What is wrong?" L asked me quietly and calmly, as if nothing in the world was a problem.

His words just went in one ear and out the other as I sluggishly twisted the brass knob and pushed the door open. Any other day, the door would open in sweet silence, but now had to be the day when it would open like a massive garbage truck attempting to awake you on your Saturday.

Slowly creeping inside my own abode, as if I were on some form of burglar raid, I stepped through the doorway and almost collapsed in confounded relief, when no one jumped at me and shot me in the face or something.

The three men behind me must have grasped the problem, because they remained in full silence as I searched the foyer.

I peeked inside the small tile-floored kitchen, no one there. I inspected the broom closet, no one there either. When I walked into the living room, calmer than I was beforehand, something made every part in my body go rigid as stone. My jaw hung open loosely as I gawked at the man sitting on my couch. Someone I never expected to see in my whole entire life.


	8. I saw it in a movie

The first idea that clobbered it's way into my brain with a blunt bat was to just tell the well-respected newcomer to just get the hell out of my 'humble dwelling'. But then, that thought was then raped and assaulted by my 'Reporter Mode' and I could have flown all over the house in a buzz of enthusiasm, if given the wings.

I was deciding my options when Mihael stepped forward angrily and made it for me, "Get out." He aimed a fury-finger at the man scrunched up cozily on the couch, carrying three tiny finger puppets perched upon his index, center, and ring finger.

"Oh Mello, I believe I deserve a better welcome than that." He sighed and twirled a soft curly lock around a pale finger.

"Why would you expect something better?? Who do you think you are?"

Near evaded his angry response and gazed at me, "They are dead."

"Yes, and I'm trying to find a way to make them go back." Oops... bad call. The three dead men twisted to goggle at me in divine shock.

"Well," I attempted to cook up a sensible way to explain, "You can't stay here forever."

"Why not?" Mail questioned.

"You, Mihael, and L, can't just walk around undead forever. You have to go back sometime." Yeah, that sounded about right.

"The girl is correct." L said, gnawing thoughtfully on his thumbnail, "It isn't proper to stay like this forever."

"Yeah!" _Oh thank you Mr. Lawliet. _It was essential that I had him on my side, he was the most admired person in the room and would be taken seriously.

"But it doesn't exactly mean we have to go back." He said sternly.

My head whipped around so hard to stare at him that my neck cracked painfully, "Uh, yeah it does."

"Not exactly. If I were to disintegrate right here, then it would mean we had to go back. But if you haven't noticed, we can walk freely underneath the sun, and I have the same feeling as if I were a human again." He stated with that usual colorless voice.

I turned back to face the only other alive person in the whole house, "What are you doing here, Mr. Near?"

"Well, I got a call that the three graves of L Lawliet, Mihael Keehl, and Mail Jeevas were dug up. Asking around, people mentioned that a Nicole Clark was seen investigating the tombs. It wasn't until just a matter of minutes was I able to find who you were, where you lived, your job, you work for your Uncle James Clark and are a very talented reporter."

And everyone told me Near was just a joke. "But I didn't dig them up! What do you want?" As if it weren't clearly obvious. What the snowy haired man desired was the three dead men.

"I know that, and you know what I want." He stated.

"Well, are you going to try and put them back?"

"I would say that, but that would be a lie." He cradled the three finger puppets in his other hand.

"Then you can't have them." I turned my back on quartet, and hurried into the kitchen, grabbing my dropped and long-forgotten bag I called my special friend, Courtney.

I told Courtney my botheration and rushed back into the room. Near was standing up and bickering with Mihael, whilst Mail and L stood off to the side watching them with an uninterested glint in their eyes.

What they were arguing over, I didn't have the slightest clue, I briskly interjected, "My friend Courtney is coming over, she's a paranormal investigator as well as a Exorcist. She'll help me put L, Mihael, and Mail back to their holes."

"No." Mihael snapped, "We're not going back. And quit calling me Mihael, it's Mello, get it straight, and to be honest, I'm getting tired of you, all you ever talk about is sending us back to our graves. Well get over it, we're not going back and there's nothing you can do to stop us."

"Mello, that is enough." L stepped forward between us, as if that would do any good, Mihael was one furious Son-of-a-bitch, and just because his mentor interfered, doesn't mean squat. Angry blue diamonds glinted daggers at me, as if trying to murder me with some form of harmful telepathy. I'm surprised I wasn't on the floor as dead as him.

Something so childish slipped past my lips floating into the air and popping right in front of Mihael's face, as if I blew up the biggest balloon and stabbed it with a fork right in front of his nose, "Yeah Mihael, that's enough." Could the consequence be any worse?

Mihael just laughed, and yes, the aftermath of my blab was even more horrid than expected, my hands clenched into tight balls, if there was one thing I couldn't stand it's being laughed at. Reaching over L, to slap the dead blonde, the deceased detective took hold of my wrist and shook his head tiredly. "It's not worth it."

Mihael kept laughing, but completely sobered up when the doorbell rang. I turned away from them all to answer the door, Near followed me, probably hoping to catch the first glimpse of Courtney. I fought the strongest impulse to push his ashen face away. Courtney chimed the gong again, impatient she is. I swung open the door to reveal Courtney, one of my best friends, constructed solely and uniquely of flawless tan skin and lengthy light blonde hair that hung pin straight down past her waist. Courtney always insisted that she keeping it long looked best on her, and I could agree with that. She was a wandering beanstalk, always was, including the former third grade times. Even today, I stood to her nose, and I was only 5'5.

Fair blue eyes blinked confusedly as she distinguished Near planted alongside me, "Who-?"

"Near." He advanced to the front, thrusting out a pallid hand decorated with puny puppets as a propositional handshake, Courtney gingerly brushed it away as if it were a fishstick, which she found utterly revolting.

Near blinked at her with that blank vacant look he gifted to everyone else, as if she hadn't just declined his handshake with unmerciful distaste.

"Where are they?" She asked immediately, anxious to meet these men.

I gestured towards the living room, she stalked in, Near and I in close pursuit of her. She always got right to work, she grabbed L by the shoulders seated him on the edge of the couch and encircled a small elastic on his upper arm, she squinted at the bend of his arm, waiting for the vein to pop up, like she was trying to take a blood sample.

"I can't get a vein." She prodded at his arm with a long manicured finger.

"It's because he's dead." Mihael snapped hotly from across the room.

Courtney just rolled her eyes and shoved the needle deep into the detective's arm, pulling the plunger until it stopped. The barrel remained empty.

"Courtney." I tried to sound resonable, a weak attempt not to make Courtney appear dull-witted, "He's dead. Blood doesn't belong in dead people."

"Yes of course, but in the movies-"

"_What!?" _Mihael butt in, "You cannot be serious. Don't tell me your playing this all by a damned movie!"

"Erm." Her cheeks turned to a rosy pink.

"Alright." I elbowed Near away, "I don't care anymore. Get out of my house, all of you... except Courtney." I jabbed a heated finger towards the door, "I want out, I don't want to bother with all of you anymore. It's not my responsibility anymore. Leave me alone and get out. You don't have to go back to your graves but you can't stay here. Mr. Near, it's an honor, but get the fuck out of my house, immediately."

Mihael, L, and Near all walked towards the door, but Mail gawked at me, mouth hanging out.

"Including you Mail." He turned, and stalked out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

I plopped down on the couch, head lolling to the side. I shut my eyes and exhaled deeply. "Courtney. I can't do this."

"And you don't have to." She rose and installed herself next to me, patting my shoulder tactfully, as if light contact would make my worries vanish. "Just forget them, you won't have to see them again."

"You think so?" I felt like a little child making sure there was no bogeyman in her closet, the confused frightened child that hoped not to see another monster again. And maybe this time, I really was that small child.

"Yeah. I know so. It's your choice, you see them again, turn your head. It's simple. Besides, you probably won't, they're probably going to England or something." She patted my shoulder and stood up, "Don't worry about it Nic. By the way, are we still up for gym tomorrow?"

Dang, I almost forgot, tomorrow was Thursday. My day off. "Yeah."

"Okay, well, I better get going."

I stole a quick glance at the clock, "It's only 2:30." I protested, not wanting my best friend to leave me.

"I know. But I have to go somewhere." I sighed, that was Courtney for you, always everywhere. She never wanted to just sit around and do nothing.

That's the life of being 18. No parents, living on your own, you just can't sit in a chair and read a book. You'd perish to a dark eternal damnation.

"Okay, later then. Thanks for your help." I almost spoke with an air of sarcasm but decided that wouldn't be best. Courtney can be a bit defensive on her part.

She nodded and packed up her belongings, then departed fleetly, apparently something fun was on her schedule and she was ready to get the hell out.

"Uh, later." I said as she burst out of my house.

You'd have thought a demon was after her. I patted around for my remote and flipped on the TV. I felt myself being engulfed into the couch and cuddled up inside my toasty coverlet. Outside was turning gray, hopefully it'd rain tonight, I'd sleep like a baby.

* * *

Author's Note: Don't worry, it's not over... I remember the reviews asking if it was Near, and after I wrote that chapter I had an all night debate with myself whether or not it was Light or Near.

Because I can't stand Light, and have no use for him, I just went with Near.

I hope you guys like it. Reviewing takes nothing but a second, you can even rant if you want.


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